


Black Cats and Green Ties

by triggerlil



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Happy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Jealous Draco Malfoy, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Multiple Relationships, Oblivious Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, Room of Requirement, Tumblr Prompt, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerlil/pseuds/triggerlil
Summary: In which Pansy is a gothic vampire matchmaker, Harry is a Slytherin, and Draco is a black cat. Yet Pansy is the caring one, Harry is still popular, and Draco is actually quite lucky, thank you very much.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660129
Comments: 11
Kudos: 172





	Black Cats and Green Ties

Draco sighed, spiked pumpkin juice sloshing over the rim of his mug.

“If you care so much, just go talk to him,” Pansy said, leaning back against the wall and admiring her red painted nails. 

They were in the room of requirement, the walls done up in varying degrees of black and orange—from the streamers to the charmed bats flitting about the ceiling, it was every bit the Halloween party. It had all been Pansy’s idea, surprisingly. She had always loved a bit of gothic couture, and now they were all suffering for it, at a party planned by her and Granger, of all people. They had done it all under the nose of the teachers, not bothering to ask for permission, even if they probably could have gotten it. No one was going to know regardless—it was going to be a huge Halloween sleepover. 

They had all worked hard to set up the room, everyone delegated a different task. Granger and Pansy had overseen the most important one; decorations. Candles floated around the outskirts, lighting the room with a haunting glow, flickering across the dance floor. Pumpkins were stacked like sentries around the room, their smiles ominous, cobwebs in every corner, and a charmed skeleton next to the doors that insisted on heckling people. The atmosphere in the room was perfect, even Draco had to admit, creepy and exuberant in a terribly fun way. They had put Luna and Daphne in charge of music, and it had been a playful mixture of haunting organ pieces and the most recent dance hits, from Hex a Wix to the Weird Sisters. Longbottom and the Weasley girl had done the food, and it was obvious who had got what, the table split into candied apples, pumpkin pie, and the like, the other side hosting severed fingers (transfigured chocolates), a jar of eyeballs (transfigured gumballs), spiked pumpkin juice, and firewhiskey gummy worms.

And of course, everyone had come dressed in costume. A slightly muggle convention, but muggle was in post-war, and who were the eighth-year students to fight the trends? Draco had been there early with Pansy and Granger, and he had mentally taken note of each costume as people walked in.

Pansy, always a lover of dramatics, had come as the muggle version of a vampire. It was bold, it was gothic, and it was slightly controversial considering vampires  _ did _ exist. She had temporarily transformed her teeth into fangs, and the exaggerated canines added to the sharp lines in her face, contrasting the glamoured red eyes and her black bob. Draco had to admit, she looked brilliant in her flowing, high collared black cape, the inside lined red, her tight leather pants, and black men’s button-up.

In contrast, Granger was wearing a long black dress that made her look like she had just stepped out of the 1800s, and apparently, she had… As Marie Curie, the muggle scientist. She had charmed her wand a glowing green, “radioactive” she said, and her bushy brown hair was put up in a high bun.

She looked atrocious in Draco’s opinion, but Pansy couldn’t stop staring at the nape of her neck or admiring the stray curls framing her face. He had also noticed Granger assessing Pansy’s toned legs, giggling madly at everything Pansy said. It made him want to vomit. 

Luna had arrived promptly to set up the music, brown paint smudged across her cheeks, and bright yellow petals sticking out of her hair. A sunflower, the symbol of joy and adoration, she informed Draco serenely.

Next most of the Gryffindor’s had shown up together, being boisterous and joyous, so making Draco’s eye twitch in annoyance.

Weasley had wrapped his Gryffindor tie around his head, tucked his white shirt loosely into tattered beige slacks, put a sword on his hip, and called himself a pirate. The epitome of lazy.

The girl Weasley was no different, dressed in her Quidditch uniform she was, _ gasp _ , a Quidditch player. She had quickly sought out Luna, flexing brashly. Disgusting. Although the way Luna had lit up at seeing her, becoming ever more the sunflower, had brought a small smile to Draco’s face.

The rest of the Gryffindor’s were boring enough; Longbottom the gardener, muggle versions of witches, Thomas a muggle football player, Finnigan apparently the  _ football.  _

There were, of course, a few Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw editions to their little gathering, but Draco couldn’t be bothered to look up from what he was doing, their costumes as boring as he would have expected. Although Zacharias Smith seemed to have put a lot of effort into looking like an absolute idiot, his dragon handler costume was completely unrealistic. Draco had never wished to see that much of Smith, his cloth shorts and thigh-high boots, fake dragon tooth necklace, and bare chest, made no sense when handling a fire breathing beast. Weasley had no issue telling him as much, his sister whipping out a camera, “to send to Charlie,” she snickered.

Finally, the Slytherins had arrived, fashionably late as always.

Theo walked in smoking a pipe, wearing a trench coat; “I’m Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes! The greatest detective in history!” He exclaimed in annoyance as only Granger recognized him.

Crabbe and Goyle had shown up as surprisingly well done-up monsters, Crabbe’s face painted a sickly green, Goyle wrapped head to toe in toilet paper. “M a Mmmy,” he muttered through the costume.

Millicent had thrown on a pair of devil horns and a tail, calling it a day.

Daphne had come as an ice queen, her blond hair streaked with snowflakes, her blue dress shimmering in the candlelight. She looked almost too good for their little affair, as if she belonged in an arching ballroom, glass slippers on her feet. 

That was nearly everyone, and Draco had been about to go back to the fake bats he was charming, and that was when  _ he _ had arrived.

“Harry, mate!” Weasley yelled, “where’s your costume?”

Potter was wearing a white button-up and slacks, his Gryffindor tie hanging loosely around his neck—so exactly what he wore under his robes all day. His hair was an absolute mess, definitely the most frightening thing Draco had seen all day, his round wire-framed glasses skewed.

“Er—I didn’t realize it was a costume party.”

“It’s bloody Halloween, Potter,” Draco quipped, “what did you expect?”

“You don’t seem to have put in much effort either, Malfoy,” Potter retorted.

That was decidedly not true; Draco was wearing all black, from his turtleneck and slacks, to the fuzzy cat ears nestled in his blond hair, to the tail pinned to his arse that seemed to have a mind of its own.

“I am a black cat, the most mysterious and magical of animals.”

It was at that point that Blaise had decided to show his face.

“Zabini,” Weasley growled, “what did we do to deserve this honour?”

“I wouldn’t miss your pretty face,” Blaise said, nearly purring, and Weasley’s face turned beet red.

“No costume, Blaise?” Pansy asked. “Seems you and Potter missed the memo.”

For the first time, Blaise and Potter acknowledged each other, and Draco hated the cunning smile that spread across Blaise’s chiselled features.

“Actually,  _ Harry _ and I planned this.”

“What?” Draco bit out, unable to catch himself.

Blaise walked forward, snaking a hand around Potter’s neck, and slipping off his tie and replacing it with his own.

“I came as a Gryffindor, he’s a Slytherin.”

Harry—and Draco reasoned with himself, if Blaise could call him Harry, then he bloody well could too— looked stunned for a second, and then a grin split across his face, his green eyes lighting up, highlighted somehow by the tie around his neck.

“I can’t just go and talk to him,” Draco moaned, now, “and he’s all distracted.”

“You could be the one doing the distracting.”

“But he’s flirted with almost every other Slytherin; shouldn’t he come to me?”

“You’re too intimidating over here.”

“I’m not!”

“Just go talk to him, Draco.”

“I can’t, Pans!”

“Sweetie,” Pansy said, cupping Draco’s face, “you’re starting to get tiring.”

She slipped away, leaving Draco to be the fuming wallflower by himself. She slid up next to Granger, surprising her from behind and pulling her onto the dancefloor.

Draco scanned the room, growling when he saw Harry and Blaise talking in the corner. It wasn’t fair, Blaise wasn’t even interested, and he knew how Draco felt.

Suddenly, he caught a flicker of blue and silver, and he watched with wide eyes as Daphne pushed past Blaise, her blond hair done up in a loosely curled bun, and pulled Harry onto the dance floor. Oh, that was just rich. He watched as Harry and Daphne twirled around the dance floor, until suddenly there was Theo, pipe still hanging from his mouth, trench coat thrown open. Daphne curtsied, and Harry bowed, but instead of Theo taking Daphne’s hand, he pulled Harry towards him, dipping him low.

Draco watched with growing anger as the tips of Harry’s ears turned red, and he stalked over to the food, actively avoiding the dance floor.

He took a handful of firewhiskey gummy worms. If he was going to watch Harry get propositioned by every Slytherin, he was going to do it absolutely pissed.

“Drinking away your troubles, too?” Weasley asked, a cup of pumpkin juice gripped firmly in hand, a glower plastered on his face.

Draco followed his gaze to Blaise taking Harry off Theo’s hands. Blaise looked up, eyes skipping off Draco to land on Weasley, his face splitting into a challenging grin. And then Harry looked at what Blaise was looking at, and his eyes were locked on Draco’s, he seemed as if he was going to come over, and then Blaise was spinning him away.

“The nerve of some people,” Weasley said.

“He’s obviously taunting you,” Draco drawled, realizing how hypocritical he sounded. “Why don’t you just talk to him.”

“Because I—” Weasley spluttered, “I can’t just—”

Draco rolled his eyes, biting down on his tongue as he watched Millicent drag Harry out to dance, dwarfing him with her broad shoulders and height.

“Why does every Slytherin want Harry tonight?” Draco fumed, biting down hard on a gummy worm, relishing the bitterness that came with it.

“Maybe you should go talk to him,” Weasley said, enjoying turning Draco’s own words on him.

“Thanks for that, Weasley.”

“How impressive we are,” he said, “standing here like idiots.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Take a shot with me?” He said, handing him some fire-whisky.

So, Draco and Weasley did a shot together, the drink burning their throats, and they stood together darkly, dwelling in their shared jealousy.

“Look at that,” Draco said, and they watched as Thomas and Finnigan stumbled into cobwebs, unable to get out. “Pansy got me to charm them so that you can’t leave until you kiss.”

“Why is everyone so happy,” Weasley moaned, looking away as the kiss deepened, Thomas and Finnigan dropping onto a nearby couch to continue.

“Beats me,” Draco agreed, angrily watching the Weasley girl spinning Luna around, their faces radiating; Pansy standing with her arms around Granger, head leaning on her shoulder; Theo and Longbottom dancing happily, albeit a little awkwardly, and everyone else that wanted to be paired off with everyone else, and it was just so infuriating.

“Hello Ronald,” a sultry voice said, and Draco and Weasley both whipped their heads around to find Blaise standing there, top buttons undone, tie loose.

That was it, Draco thought, as Blaise led Ron away. He had had enough. Potter was nowhere to be seen, and he wasn’t going to just stand here watching everyone be lovey dovey and absolutely deplorable.

He put down his glass, shooing away a bat that was trying to settle in his hair, and stormed out of the room of requirement, his tail twitching angrily. Outside, the candles flickered ominously, the hallways silent. He skirted around the suits of armour, looking out for Filch, Mrs. Norris, or Peeves, and let himself finally take a breath.

He revelled in the quiet, and found himself in the courtyard, the stars twinkling with an extra Halloween specialty. He sat down on a bench, casting a quick warming charm against the cool night air, and allowed the silence to wash over him.

It wasn’t fair that everyone else got to be happy, discovering that when they got over their prejudices, they got along well. Draco had been pining after Harry for years,  _ years _ , and here Pansy and Granger had only started getting along a few months ago. Certainly, Blaise and Weasley hadn’t been after each other before now. He grumbled to himself, kicking the rocks at his feet, until he heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Malfoy?” A voice called out, and he cursed inwardly. Of course. He turned around on the bench, his tail flexing with the chill that curled down his spine, nothing to do with the weather.

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco asked harshly, as Harry came round and sat next to him.

“I wondered where you went,” he said, brow furrowing with worry as he shivered.

Draco rolled his eyes, casting a quick warming charm on Harry, too.

“Weren’t you having fun being the complete center of attention?” Draco asked, looking away so Harry didn’t see how serious he was being. “There wasn’t a Slytherin in that room who didn’t flirt with you.”

“Except for you,” he replied, inching closer.

“What?”

“You never flirted with me, you barely talked to me,” he said, a breeze running through the courtyard ruffling his hair, a far-off owl hooting. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I—No, Potter, you are so dense,” Draco spluttered, not sure how to put it into words. “You were the one who never talked to me!”

“I wanted to, but you seemed so angry.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You really are an idiot, Potter,” he said, and he leaned forward, looking closely into Harry’s eyes, admiring the different shades of green flecked around his pupils. If there was any night to forget his cowardice, it was this night, with eldritch magic on the wind and ethereal energy permeating the air.

“What are you—” he breathed, realizing what Draco was implying. He swallowed nervously, and Draco felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched the delicate skin of Harry’s throat. 

“Can I kiss you, Harry?” he whispered, “because this is what I’ve been wanting all night.”

Harry just nodded dumbly, Draco closing the gap between them and bringing their lips together, running a hand through Harry’s messy black hair, coming to pull on the Slytherin tie around his neck. He tasted like sweetness, a hint of alcohol on his breath, his glasses digging into the bridge of Draco’s nose. He flicked his tongue against Harry’s lips, gently prying them open. He let Harry explore his mouth nervously, until he bit down on Harry’s lower lip, sucked, shuddered as Harry gasped into his mouth. The kiss deepened, their noses brushing, teeth clicking for a moment, and Draco let a hand snake under Harry’s shirt, gripping the skin he had wanted to feel for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry looked even more of a mess, and Draco’s cat ears were lopsided, his tail stroking up and down Harry’s arm.

“Er—“ Harry started, his lips kiss swollen and attractive, “I mean—Shit, Malfoy.”

“I think maybe we’re past last names.”

“Okay, Draco—But, I—Was that why all the Slytherins were dancing with me?” He asked. “To make you jealous so that,” he motioned between them, “this would happen.”

“Actually… That makes a lot of sense,” Draco said, making a mental note to torture Pansy. “I guess we should make,” he mimicked Harry, motioning between them, “this happen.” And he pulled him forward by the tie and kissed him again, making another mental note to make Harry wear Slytherin colours more often.

Draco smiled into the kiss. Apparently, a bit of jealousy could be beneficial, and he thought that everyone being happy and disgustingly in love probably wasn’t so bad, if anything, it would be nice to feel wanted for a change. Somewhere, candles in pumpkins were blown out, bags of candy dumped out and counted, and the first of November was coming in without fan fair, Halloween stalking back into the shadows. Until next year, Draco thought, and if he could want Harry for six whole years, they could probably last for one. They could wear a couple’s costume next Halloween, something absolutely atrocious, like darkness and light.

Meanwhile, Harry was thinking, through the pleasure that was beginning to flood his body, that having an anniversary with Draco on Halloween wouldn’t be a terrible thing. After all, he had been looking for distractions today, and he had been lucky enough to find the best one. A little black cat he could call his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the drarry discord for helping me brainstorm a lot of these ideas and costumes, and to Jack for the super quick beta! If you liked this please consider leaving a comment/kudos, it would mean a lot to me! And if you want me to write some drarry fic for a prompt you have in mind, shoot me an [ask on tumblr!](https://triggerlil.tumblr.com/ask)


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